The Lady and the Tiger
by Destineyrose18
Summary: Short story that is a crossover and dedication to a favorite author the story is her's with a few twiks. Hermione Weasley will stop at nothing to find out who killed her brother even if it means posing as the wife of notorious rogue Harry Potter the Earl of Cokeworth.
1. Chapter 1

DONT OWN ANYTHING NOT EVEN THE PLOT

Chapter 1

CORNWALL, ENGLAND, DATE 1800s

Miss Hermione Weasley groped her way toward the ocean cliff, guided only by the sound of the waves and scent of salty water in the breezy night, clouds streamed across the starry night blocking out the moonlight ,causing her to lose her footing and go skidding down a few inches before she realized she'd reached her goal.

Sitting down hard, she pulled herself to safety , then scooted back and huddled in the rough sea grass .Pebbles scattered down the steep slope to the beach on the Cokeworth estate,and she listened for the shouts that would mean she'd been had.

There was none. Just the endless rocking of the waves of the beach below.

Sitting there she began to reminisce,it had been three months,Three months of lonely torment as she pored over her brother's diary and tried to decipher his cryptic scrawls. Three months of futile visits to the London townhouse where Harry Potter ,the Earl of Cokeworth, resided and kept an office ,three months of listening while Potter assured her the government would avenge Ronald's death.

Three months of knowing that he lied.

A boat crunched on the sand below as it drove onto the beach. Shivering with chill and fear,she pulled the dark hood over her brown hair and scooted back to the edge of the cliff, the moon had been blotted out by clouds and it was so dark she could hardly see her hand in front her face,she nevertheless observed as covered lanterns flashed like fireflies. They showed bits of light only as the men deemed necessary,and in their movement she counted at least twenty smugglers.

Eight unloading the boat ,eight receiving on the beach , and three men just standing just keeping watch .One tall figure moved back and forth,and from the consideration all the men paid him, it was obvious he was the 's diary mentioned him only as The Keeper,but Hermione feared she knew his identity. She strained her eyes wide and prayed for just one moment of light and when it came she stood in indignation.

"He is the smuggler."

As if her words caught in the wind and blew to his ears alone ,Potter turned and looked up toward the top of the saw the glint of his eyes ,and with the instinct of a hunted creature,she crouched behind a rock and froze . She didn't want Potter to see her couldn't let him find her her ugly suspicions had been proven true,and if he had killed her brother to silence him,she doubted he would hesitate to murder her, too.

Her heart pounded and she wanted to flee with unrestrained panic,but she'd come too far and too much was at stake for her to lose control now Straining to listen ,she could hear men's voices above the lap of the waves,but no shout of discovery gave her reason to had to keep her head ,get back to the inn,and write her report to give to the would be difficult to convince them that a member of the House of Lords was nothing but a common criminal, but with Ronald's diary as corroboration she'd do it.

She had to, for Ronald's sake.

She crept backwards. Her skirt caught on her heels , rocks ground into the palms of her hands,she stood finally , and leaned to dust off her skirt. When she straightened and squinted toward the horizon,she realized a tall figure blocked out the light .She stared,pinned by fear ,then with a yelp and a start ,she whirled and ran.

She could hear the boots pounding behind her ,roots and foliage grabbed at her skirts, the ruts of the road moved and twisted in snakelike fashion. The wind whipped at her back and carried a man's warm breath to touch the nape of her rose on her flesh,Moaning softly she clutched the stitch starting in her side she could run no longer, she dared a look behind her.

All she could see was black,the stars had disappeared completely and the upcoming storm splattered the first raindrops in her 'd imagined Potter when he wasn't a sigh of relief ,she slowed to a walk and trudged toward the stupid and cowardly she'd been in her precipitous flight!But for weeks she had dreamed about Potter chasing 'd seen his face on every dark haired man who walked the about Potter made her want to run and never stop.

It hadn't always been that way. When Ronald had been killed,she'd gone to meet Potter for the first time,confident he would help her. After had been Potter's first secretary,and he spoke of Potter in dazzling terms.

Instead ,Potter had actively and personally repelled her inquiries. According to him,she should remain at home like a proper lady,and the smugglers would be brought to justice when the time just couldn't bear being patronized, and certainly not by just clenched her teeth and faced up to him, ignoring the breadth of his shoulders,his perfect sculpted face,and her own untutored desire to hurl herself into his arms and let him care for her . Early on she might have done just that,but from the very beginning some instinct told her that his placid demeanor hid something deep,potent,and deceptive.

Still weary she glanced behind her,Ronald had always said she was to straightforward to sneak around and to blunt for diplomacy,but now that she'd read his diary she learned that her brother had led a secret life. He had her convinced he was nothing more than Potter's secretary,when actually he had worked to uncover the ring of smugglers.

A frown puckered her face,he hadn't told her because he didn't want her to worry for him. He'd been protecting her,and now she was alone with no one to avenge his death but her.

She would do it she'd make sure those responsible suffered as she had suffered with his loss.


	2. Chapter 2

**DONT OWN ANYTHING NOT EVEN THE PLOT**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

The rain began to fling itself to the ground with increasing conviction,and she wrapped her red cloak, the one she had sewn with her own fingers,tighter around her she saw the lights of Olivander's Inn,She fixed on them as if they were her salvation. She knew,of course that Potter might seek her out,but had whiskey to unload and reckless individuals to pay,and he would never imagine that she'd be on her way at first light,even if she had to walk.

Carefully she crept through the now muddy inn yard and pushed the outside door open. In the two days she'd stayed here,she'd learned that it squeaked if not handled properly,and that brought Olivander bustling out of his quarters to smile and bow and greet her as if she were the salvation of Potter's Village.

And all because of one little lie she'd been driven to tell.

God would forgive her,she was sure,for she'd told it in pursuit of truth and justice,but she didn't know if the hearty but sometimes odd Olivander would.

The hinges didn't make a sound. The taproom was empty,as it had been when she left,and she didn't understand how her luck had held,she didn't want anyone to know she'd been out,yet at the same time during the other evenings she had been here the townsfolk had congregated in the taproom for ale,butterbeer( Olivanders locally only served family recipe) and conversation. Briefly she wondered what kept them away,why the fire burned low and place looked abandoned. Then a burst of angry shouting from the kitchen sent her fleeing up the stairs. At the top she paused and listened.

Olivander's voice she could recognize, and he sounded both agitated and afraid. The other voice was a man's,lower less distinct,but with a tone that raised the hair on the back of her head.

Who was it?Gripping the rail in both hands,she crept down two steps and listened intently. Why did he sound so menacing?Heedlessly, she stepped on the edge of the third step and it creaked beneath her shoe. The voices in the kitchen stopped and she froze.

Footsteps sounded on the floorboards and Olivander stepped into the common room. She tried to melt into the shadows,and he stared up at her. He saw her; he seemed to stare right up at her she would have sworn he saw her,but he shrugged and walked back into the kitchen without any indication he'd noted her presence.

The conversation began again, lower this time,and she crept to her room,she took the key from her reticule and unlocked the inside,she shut the dark oak panels behind her and turned the key again,protecting herself from all corners.

It was just as she'd left it. This was,as Olivander had told her the night she arrived,the best bedchamber in the inn and one which had served Henry the Eighth when he had been stranded in a didn't know if she believed that,but certainly a gigantic old fashioned bed dominated the room.

It rested on a dais in the corner,and the canopy was hung with velvet curtains which could be drawn to keep in the warmth. Dragons decorated every bedpost and each rail between had been sanded and polished until it shone. Olivande had proudly told her that over two thousand geese had been plucked to stuff that feather mattress. She only knew she'd been lost in it when she slept.

The fire in her fireplace burned,piled high with sweet smelling one side was a settle,a bench whose high back protected her from drafts when she sat the other stood a desk and she always did,she went to the desk first. The candles had burned down while she was gone,but they still illuminated the papers that were organized there. Beneath them rested a diary.

Ronald's diary was the one reason she knew to be in Potter village now,tonight. It was the reason she'd scouted the area earlier in the day and had deduced that the cove would be the landing place.

She reassured herself the diary remained safe,then thoroughly covered it with the papers again Ronald had taught her that,Always hide things in plain sight, he 'd learned that while in service to Potter,and she found it in good advice.

Flushed with guilt,she opened the desk drawer and pushed her hand all the way to the back, Her fingertips touched the cold metal,and she drew out a small silver this matter,she ignored Ronald and his advice she couldn't bear to leave the deadly thing out, she34'd stressed her need for privacy to Olivander and been careful to lock the door whenever she left,but possession of such a firearm made her nervous.

It was Ronald's,and until he'd been killed she'd never imagined she would want to carry one. She knew how to use it,Her father had insisted on her learning self defense while they lived in Australia,but back in England,she'd believed herself inviolate. Now with Ronald's death,her veil of security had been ripped and she trusted no fellow being.

Strange,but her sense of being threatened by Potter had started long before her suspicions that he was the smuggler congealed into a certainty . Once when she turned suddenly,she caught him contemplating her with a look she'd seen only once before when her parents were alive and the whole family lived in Australia. She 'd seen a tiger concealing itself in high grass,waiting for his prey. Potter 's look betrayed a tiger like confidence in himself. He was sure he could have her if he wanted,but the time wasn't yet right. His expression had given her a shiver,but when she tried to verify her impression,all expression smoothed away from his face.

But as the months had worn on,she sometimes thought she could sense the impatient twitch of his tail and the way he crouched,waiting to pounce.

Shivering,she placed the pistol back. Stripping off her wet cloak,she flung it over the back of the settle,then laid her gloves by the feeble flames. She slipped out of her practical boots,now covered with mud,and placed them neatly by the gloves. Her dark red walking dress,so suitable for the city and for the occupation of a librarian was bedraggled from the nights ill use,and she touched the hem with trembling fingers.

She hadn't the money to replace it,every cent she owned had gone into this trip to Cornwall,she firmed her chin it was worth the loss of a mere gown to bring Ronald's murderer to justice,and she was close to that ,she repaired the fire so it burned brightly again,warming her hands all the while.

As her hair dried,the brown strands sprang away from her head and curled in wild abandon,but she didn't care tonight,who was going to see it anyway?

* * *

"She's at Olivander's " Harry Potter ,the Earl of Cokeworth, gave the boy a push.

"Go back and tell the others,then return and wait in the stable.I'll be out when I've got the information."

In the dark and the rain,he couldn't see Collin leave,but he knew he would be obeyed . Every one of his men was loyal to him,and only to him,but tonight something had gone wrong, he kicked the door to Olivander's in, he cursed the woman he'd seen fleeing from him earlier in the night.


	3. Chapter 3

DON'T OWN ANYTHING NOT EVEN THE PLOT

Chapter 3

Hermione.

His instincts told him it was Hermione Weasley,and his instincts were very active where she was concerned. What was she doing here on this precise night?What did she know,and how did she know it?What had her brother told her that he hadn't been able to communicate to Harry?

Harry needed to get answers,so he'd abandoned his men as they unloaded casks of brandy and hid them in the caves on the cliffs above the had to follow the woman.

The taproom was even Olivander stood before the fire that sputtered on the hearth,and Harry's gaze probed every corner as he scraped mud off his the innkeeper bustled out of the kitchen,wiping his hands on his apron."Hey,what are ye doing out tonight?"he demanded roughly."ye know_"

Harry swept his hat off and Olivander stopped in his that looked like horror flashed briefly across his rotund face,then he wiped his expression clear and allowed a slow grin to forward,he took Harry's cloak."m' delightful! M'lady assured me ye'd arrive."

"M'lady?"

"M'lady arrived yesterday,but she didn't expect ye for several days."

What was the man babbling about?Harry kept his face carefully mother was dead,his grandmother seldom left the manor,and they were the only noblewomen Olivander called"m'lady."In a neutral tone,Harry asked,"Didn't she?"

Chuckling,Olivander slipped behind the bar and opened the tap on a cask of Harry's favorite liquid swirled into the mug while Olivander said,"Aye,'twill be a surprise sure to please as pleasent as the surprise ye've given us." He winked and passed Harry the glass.

"Marrying the young lady, and at Narcissa Malfoy, too! We'd never have thought it of ye,m'lord but when love strikes as sudden as all that ,a man's got to leg-shackle the heifer before she's had a chance to think."

"My opinion exactly."Harry clutched the handle of the mug and wished he could clutch someone by the throat with equal 'd come in ,furious and determined, and been knocked completely awry by Olivander's babblings, now he found he was supposed to have married-and at Narcissa Malfoy. "Who knows about this?"

"Ah..."Olivander swabbed the length of the bar with a rag."Well ,to tell ye the truth, m'lord,word seems to have got out in the village."

"Now,how did that happen?"

Olivander scrubbed harder.

Taking a chance ,Harry used her name. "Did...Hermione ...mention this to many people?"

"Nay! She was as discreet as ye instructed,and told only me."

So it was Hermione who awaited him in the bedchamber course,she didn't realize her lord would ever truly arrive,but perhaps these events could be turned to his favor.

Leaning on his elbows,Olivander smiled at Harry feebly."But of course the women wondered, and i gave 'em just one hint, and before i knew it.." He flung up his hands in a helpless display. "Ye know women,m' 're terrible gossips."

"Damn!" Harry paced away from the bar. The whole village knew that their lord had supposedly married?Hermione Weasley had a lot to answer for, and the list grew with each passing minute."Gossip can be the cause of a lot of trouble .Did m'lady happen to tell you why I wasn't with her or why she didn't go on to Potter Court when it is so close?"

"Aye, m'lord ,she told me everything."


End file.
